


unclean.

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: AFAB language used for Wilbur (he’s ftm), Age Difference, Bottom Wilbur Soot, Consent to Dubious Consent to Non-consent, Cunnilingus, Implied Child Grooming, Implied Past Child Abuse, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Menstrual Sex, Swap AU - Wilbur is 18; Tommy is 26; Tubbo is 27, Top Tommyinnit, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, i guess, i hate the tagging system, implied csa, mild emetophobia (talks of nausea), mild transphobic comments from tommy, they’re unintentional. But still, top tubbo, ✨projecting onto Wilbur✨
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:15:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29175519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Wilbur spends his 18th birthday and his first night in exile inside a ravine.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo/Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot/TommyInnit
Comments: 10
Kudos: 126
Collections: Anonymous





	unclean.

**Author's Note:**

> originally was supposed to be smut between two consenting adults, and then my rapist came knocking on my door. 
> 
> tw: rape, implied grooming, implied CSA, implied past child abuse (not by clingy duo), mild emetophobia warning (talks of nausea and bile), mild transphobia
> 
> i’m also ftm for the record. this is all projection. 
> 
> disclaimer: tommyinnit and tubbo are wonderful people irl, but the personalities of their personas remind me far too much of two people who used me in the past. yeah, for once in this place wilbur isn’t the creep lmao.

Tommy’s angry.

Wilbur can tell; the older man is cussing up a storm under his breath, glaring into the small fire they’ve made like it’s the cause of them staying the night in a ravine. His knuckles are still bleeding from when he punched the wall earlier, but Wilbur hasn’t dared to approach while he’s still mad. 

Even if he knows that Tommy would never hurt him, it’s hard to convince his body of that. Every wave and cuss makes him want to curl up and hide and try not to get hurt. 

His own shoulder aches, blood lazily seeping into the rags of his uniform as he watches Tommy. Wilbur should probably bandage it, but he doesn’t want to attract Tommy’s ire by moving too much. So for now, he simply sits and tries not to think about the terrified faces they had left behind under that tyrant’s rule. 

God, he really doesn’t want to think about it. 

A hand comes down on his injured shoulder, and Wilbur jumps, looking up. Tubbo gives him a tired smile, thankfully moving his hand away. “I’ll deal with him,” he whispers quietly, before pressing a potion of instant healing into Wilbur’s hand. “Patch yourself up.” 

Wilbur nods, doing as he’s told while Tubbo approaches Tommy. “ _What?_ ” Tommy spits as the eldest approaches, but his expression is softer than before. 

“You need to calm down,” Tubbo says bluntly, “I get that you’re mad, but right now-“

“Right now, we don’t have a fucking home! We just got kicked out of our goddamn country! I gave my life for that country, and he just- that fucker just-!“ Tommy’s fist bangs against the wall, and Wilbur can’t help but flinch. The blond man looks stricken, taking an involuntary step back. 

Tubbo grabs his arm. “ _Tommy._ That’s enough.”

“...Sorry,” he mutters, kicking the ground. 

“I’m not the only one you should be apologizing too.” 

Tommy nods, and Wilbur feels his body tense as he approaches. “I’m sorry, Wilbur. I didn’t mean to scare you.” His hand hesitantly reaches out to ruffle his hair, and even though his stomach flips, Wilbur lets him. “Must be a pretty shitty birthday, huh?”

“...I’ve had worse,” he replies, trying for a small smile. It seems to work, because Tommy barks out a laugh, brushing back his hair and pressing a small kiss to the top of his head, keeping a hand on the small of Wilbur’s back. He melts into his arms, allowing Tommy to pick him up and snuggling into the warmth of the older man’s arms. 

“Well, I don’t know about you two, but I know a way we can still salvage this birthday,“ Tommy says, winking at him. Tubbo stiffens, lips pressing into a thin line as he and Tommy simply stare at each other. The silence seems to stretch before he finally gives in, gesturing to the small room he had hollowed out in the side of the ravine, three simple beds pushed together. “You comfortable with this, Wilby? We’re going all the way this time.” 

He flushes slightly at the nickname, but nods into Tommy’s chest. He doesn’t want to disappoint the older man, not the blond he’s looked up to and followed for so long. Tommy’s deep chuckle vibrates through him, and Wilbur can’t help but shiver slightly. He slides them both onto the beds, slipping a hand down his trousers. 

“Tommy,” Tubbo says, an odd note in his voice as he stares at them from the other end of the bed. There’s a weird look on his face, a tension that makes Wilbur shift uncomfortably slightly. “This is-“ 

“Don’t fucking start, hypocrite.” Tubbo looks away, hands curling into fists. Wilbur can’t concentrate on that, however, as Tommy suddenly bites his shoulder, groping at his cunt through his underwear. 

“W-Wait- Tommy, wait-“ Tommy pauses, looking at him with concern. Wilbur swallows, catching his breath. “I’m- my cycle started, it’s-“ Tubbo stiffens, staring at him with dark eyes. 

“Oh, ‘s that all? That’s fine... in fact, it’s something Tubbo here _really_ likes.” Tommy goes back to nipping at his neck. Gasps slip out of his mouth, tears already starting to form. He blinks at Tubbo with blurry, wet eyes, and with a quiet curse under his breath, Tubbo shifts closer to him, sandwiching him between them. He can feel Tommy smirk against his skin, smug and gloating. “See?” 

“Shut up,” Tubbo mutters, fingers moving to unbutton Wilbur’s uniform. “I don’t want to hear it.”

The second pair of hands on him feels overwhelming. It’s too hard to focus on all of them roaming and groping his body, slowly stripping him down until he’s only got his shirt on, most of his bare pale skin on display for both of them. Tommy places a hand on his nude thigh, humming appreciatively as he looks him over. “So pretty, Wil,” he says, butterflying a few kisses against his collarbone. 

“T...Tommy...” 

“Lay down and spread your legs. Tubbo, you know what to do.” Wilbur shakily nods, apprehension tight in his gut as he gets into position. Even though they’ve done stuff like this several times before during the revolution, it still never fails to make him nervous. Tubbo gets in between his legs, hot air puffing on his cunt before he takes one slow, testing lick. He instinctively tries to buck his hips, but two firm hands hold him down as his rough tongue runs across his cunt, lapping at the blood and juice leaking from him.

Tommy runs his fingers through his hair, quietly whispering praises to him as more and more moans fall from his mouth. _You’re doing so well, Wilby, so fucking good, shit, do you know how pretty you look?_

Tubbo’s tongue explores him thoroughly, pausing only to occasionally to suckle on his clit, and he can’t do anything but take it. His scratch beard itches at his skin, making him shiver and bite back sobs. 

“Tommy,” he says, quietly pawing at the man’s arms, “I’m close, I’m gonna-“ 

“Go ahead,” Tommy says, and Wilbur lets himself come with a sob, Tubbo eating him out through his orgasm, making sparks light up on the inside of his eyes. When Tubbo stands up, his mouth is shiny red from his blood and juices, a visible wet patch on his trousers. _He looks upset,_ Wilbur thinks, _I should do something about that._ Unfortunately, he’s still too dazed from his orgasm to do anything but watch as he storms out. 

He tries to reach out for the older man, but Tommy holds him back with a shake of his head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault. He’s just being a fucking asshole right now.” 

“...Okay.” Wilbur shivers as one of Tommy’s fingers trail a line down his thigh, all the way down towards the valley between his leg. He forces back the nausea rising in the back of his throat as Tommy slips a finger inside of him. This is- Sex is enjoyable. He just needs to relax. “Tommy...” 

The older man thrusts his fingers inside, rough and quick. He doesn’t slow down, not even when Wilbur quietly begs him to. “It’s okay, you can take it,” Tommy says bluntly, pushing in another finger and curling them both inside. He breathes shakily through his mouth as his lower half simply aches, uncomfortable and in pain. Wilbur wishes Tubbo hadn’t left. Tommy’s always nicer when Tubbo’s there. 

He risks a glance down, grimacing at the sight of Tommy’s bloodslicked fingers plunging in and out of him. There’s already another finger pushing in, stretching him out further. “Tell me how it feels,” Tommy whispers. 

“It’s...”

_It’s painful._

_It’s gross._

_It‘s dirty._

“...nice. It’s nice,” Wilbur mumbles, looking away. Tommy lets out a sigh, gently brushing the side of his face with his clean hand. 

“What’s going on, Wil?”

“...nothing. Just- I guess I’m a bit scared. It’s going to hurt, right?” 

“Yeah, but I promise I’ll be gentle, alright?” Tommy presses another kiss to his cheek. “I’ll put it in slowly, like a... uh... a fucking popsicle.”

Despite himself, Wilbur barks out a laugh. “What kind of comparison is that?” Don’t think about what’s poking at you, don’t think, don’t think, _don’t think-_

“A fucking good one,” he says, rubbing against him a few times. When he finally pushes in, Wilbur instinctively finds himself holding his breath. 

It’s- 

It’s _big._

He’s not saying that in the good way. 

It’s nothing like how the books and videos Tommy had given him had described it. There’s no sudden connection, no rush of love and affection. There’s just cold, jagged stone walls, scratchy sheets, and the smell of Tommy’s sweat as he holds him down and gently starts to fuck him, even as he starts begging him to stop again. 

“You can take it, Wilbur. Fucking _relax._ ”

This isn’t fun anymore. It’s just pain. 

His vision blurs, everything melting together as their hips rock together. There’s an uncomfortable pressure on his spine, and baby silverfish crawl between the cracks in the wall. Huh. He didn’t know those kind of monsters spawned this far up. Wilbur wonders if there’s a skeleton down here, one he can snag a bow off of. Maybe he could even get himself a crossbow. 

“You’re doing amazing, Wilbur. Fuck, you feel so nice around me, so hot and tight. You really were a virgin, huh?”

There’s a dark spot on the wall that vaguely looks like the of Dream SMP. Schlatt would like it. Is he doing alright, back in L’manberg? Wilbur hopes so. Fundy too. The older man looked really stressed when he got shot. Becoming Secretary of State probably didn’t help much. 

A hand slips under his shirt. Wilbur stiffens. “D-Don’t-“ 

“It’s alright,” Tommy says, groping and fucking and touching and all over him. “Wilby, sweetheart, it’s all good-“ He presses hickies down his neck. 

It’s not painful anymore, the slap of skin on skin is almost enjoyable now, barring the slight burn. Wilbur hates it anyway. He just wants this to be over. The knot in his stomach is getting tighter and tighter, and he doesn’t want to _come-_

A wail escapes his mouth as Tommy bites down, and he comes, legs locking against the small of Tommy’s back. Even as his walls flutter and pulse, the older man is still moving, fast and sharp thrusts getting quicker and quicker. “Fucking beautiful, so nice, just for me-“

“W-Wait, don’t-“ He’s not going to. Not inside, right? Wilbur has seen Tommy come before, but having it inside of him is- 

It’s _terrifying._

He tries to push away, but Tommy grabs his arms and slams them down, and no no no no _no-_

A rush of almost searing heat makes him jerk and squirm, tears freely rolling down his face. All Wilbur can do is stare at the bloodslicked cock that’s pumping him full of semen and try not to scream. Tommy’s saying something, curling his rough hands in his hair, but all he can hear is the roar of blood in his ears as he stares, stricken, at the sight of their union. 

Oh god, oh god, oh god-

Tommy pulls out. The semen leaks out, mixing with the blood under him. “Maybe you’ll get pregnant,” he jokes, “You’d make a pretty good dad. Or would it be mom, ‘cause you’d be the one who’d, uh... y’know... maybe ‘dom’? Wait, shit, no-“ 

“...” He can’t find anything to say. Wilbur can’t bring himself to look away from the bloodstained sheets. Tommy follows his gaze and winces. 

“Yeah, that’s kind of gross. Here, let me clean it up.” 

Tommy picks him up again, but it’s not as warm as it was before. Maybe it’s just Wilbur. It’s always just Wilbur. 

He sets him down on a crafting table, pressing another kiss to his forehead. “I’ll come back to clean you up, okay? I just need to do this first...” 

“...Okay.” Tommy beams, ruffling his hair gently before walking off. 

A silverfish crawls into the wall behind him. 

Maybe if Wilbur tries hard enough, he can get the stone to swallow him too.

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to that other fic where tommy is the rapist and not wilbur. you’re the only bitch in this house that i respect /joke 
> 
> (psa: obvs you are completely valid in your own trauma if you see your own abuser in wilbur’s character and decide to project. i’m just making a joke.)


End file.
